Mama's Boy

I remember when the term "Mama's boy" was meant as a derogatory remark. Now, it just makes me lovingly think of my little guy. Although, he's not so little anymore. Today my baby Pierce turns . . . gulp . . . FIVE.

 Big ole blue eyes. And that stuff coming out of his mouth, well that's just "dripping sugar" as my MIL lovingly calls it (this is the South after all).

Like all parents, I sit and think, "How did he get this old?" Pierce is and always will be my baby . . . a little surgical procedure has seen to that.  So, yes, I'm more than a little sad that he's as grown up as he is. I have to get my baby fixes with my friend's babies . . . but I must admit, it's nice to hand them back and not have to worry with the sleepless nights, colic and other realities of having a newborn.

C-section baby face. Not as red and scrunchy as his sister.

I never expected to have a boy. I grew up in girl world - having only an older sister and going to an all-girls high school made me a little wary of boys and their secret club. Then four years after marrying my husband, our first child - a girl - came along. Of course, I was supposed to have girls. So, when pregnancy number two rolled around, imagine my surprise when I saw a little something extra on the ultrasound. Complete and utter shock and a little fear.

That's Matt and mini-Matt.

People tried to warn me about the activity level of boys. I naively replied that I had a very active girl, so it shouldn't be too bad. I was very wrong. Constant motion. Never stops. Still haven't caught up on my sleep from his toddler years. Although, he was a good napper until, oh, about age 3 so I got some brief reprieves.

And into everything . . .

This is a famous family photo. No, I did not dress him up as Ludwig Von Beethoven. He and his sister decided to put an entire economy size jar of Vaseline in each other's hair. That stuff does NOT come out. One solution . . . corn starch. It worked, sort of, after several washes. Priceless.

People also tried to tell me, "Oh, boys love their mothers." This made me nervous. What if mine didn't? Well, he proved the cliche correct. He is the most loving, affectionate child, and yes, he prefers his mommy to most everyone (except maybe one of his grandmothers and on certain days his idol and big sister Meg). Kind of a wonderful ego boost.

Oh, and did I mention his curls? He had straight hair until he was about one when it started to get curly, then curlier and curlier. It's a force of nature. It's changed from blond to dark blond to light brown, but it's still very curly. If I go out with him in public people invariably comment on his hair. It's a great icebreaker. Pierce just wouldn't be Pierce without his mane.

Couldn't you just eat him up?

He brings so much joy to our lives, and oh, I love him so!

Happy Birthday, my sweet Pierce . . . may you always be a Mama's boy.